Adam lay on his back, staring up at a storm filled sky. Lightning carved silent scars across the heavens, their jagged paths illuminating pregnant clouds in brief, electric flashes. The air reeked of petrichor, sharp and fresh, but the ground beneath his fingers was cracked and bone-dry, as if rain had never fallen.
He sat up slowly. The earth stretched out in every direction like the remains of a dead ocean, lit by the occasional flicker of distant lightning. No trees. No hills. No signs of life. Just a boundless wasteland beneath the churning sky.
A breeze stirred the air, swirling with tiny motes of dust. He hunched his shoulders and slipped his hands into his jacket pockets, suddenly aware of how exposed he felt in the barren expanse.
His condo was missing, as was his car, and even the street had vanished. Perhaps the entire world had disappeared at the moment the lightning struck.
He took a step forward. His foot crunched against the ground with unnatural sharpness, louder than it should have been. The brittle crust shattered like old bone beneath his foot. It echoed off of nothing, harsh and immediate, and the hair on the back of his neck prickled uncomfortably at the sound.
"Hello?" he called.
His voice struck the air like a hammer. It boomed outward, unanswered, bouncing off of the emptiness and slamming back into his ears. Adam flinched and clapped his hands over them, reeling from the deafening metallic ring.
Then the sky answered.
Two bolts stabbed down from above, striking the ground ten feet in front of him. The impact flashed blue-white, searing bright afterimages into his eyes and the earth trembled faintly underfoot.
He staggered backward, blinking furiously. Wherever he was, it did not appreciate when he spoke.
Adam rubbed his eyes, willing his vision to return. After a few moments, the afterimages faded and he looked up from his half-crouched position.
A figure stood before him, made of pure electricity. It resembled a living stick figure and vibrated with shifting energy. Tiny arcs of static leapt from its limbs into the cracked earth, vanishing with snapping hisses.
Adam knew he should be afraid, but the emotion wouldn't come. This was just another drop in the bucket of the day's insanity and he felt no malice from the thing, only a curious, cautious presence, studying him as he studied it.
"What are you?" he asked without thinking.
His voice detonated in the silence. The figure spasmed, shivering violently as sparks burst from its form. It looked like it was in pain. The sound rebounded off of the emptiness again, then collapsed into a high-pitched whine that drilled into Adam's skull.
The figure surged forward in a stuttering arc.
"WHAT ARE YOU?"
The force of the sound slammed Adam to his knees, the crunch of the parched earth beneath him like twin gunshots. Sparks crackled across his fingers, racing up his arms in branching lines of fire. His vision blurred as he swam in sensation. Every nerve screaming with conductive potential while his muscles twitched, seizing beneath the skin.
The pain receded slowly, leaving his limbs jerking and unsteady as he fought to regain control of his body.
Adam stared at the figure looming above him. Its head, little more than a crackling fork of energy, tilted as if curious. No sound. That was the rule here, he realized. But Adam could still feel the weight of its attention. It wasn't vision, not exactly, but awareness. Something that seeped beneath his skin and traced the silent spark threading through his nerves, running between the synapses in his brain.
He stood, and the figure mirrored him in response. More arcs of energy slithered from its limbs, snapping softly as they touched the dry air.
If there was a way to communicate with it, he knew now it wouldn't be through words. It had to be through contact.
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Adam raised his right hand, palm open and fingers trembling. The being followed his lead, its arm rising in response. The single branch of energy split into five tendrils, writhing in near perfect mimicry.
He lifted his left hand, and again the creature mirrored him. For a moment, they stood in still symmetry, the air charged with potential.
Like a synapse, he thought, then stepped forward and pressed his fingertips to the figure's. The circuit closed with a resounding snap of energy.
The sound shattered the silence like cannon fire. A shock ran through him, intense but not painful. Energy looped through his right arm, across his chest, and out through his left.
Whump. Whump.
Adam staggered. His heart, he realized, his heart hadn't been beating until now. For the second time in a day the stillness at his center had been total and complete.
The figure jerked slightly, its focus narrowing on Adam's chest.
Another arc surged through him. Right arm, to heart, to left, and it drove him back to his knees.
Whump. Whump.
Finally, the pain bloomed in his chest.
His arms spasmed, hands curling into tight fists. The figure wrapped its crackling fingers around his and drove another bolt through him.
The muscles in his chest seized as he felt a rising tide of stomach acid surge up his throat.
He jerked and tried to pull away, but it held him fast.
Another jolt. Faster.
Whump-whump.
The pulses became rapid-fire, slamming into his chest like fists.
He couldn't take it. His body couldn't take it. Something would give.
And it did.
Adam gasped, sucking down air that burned his lungs like fire. He clawed at the wet grass where he lay, his fingers digging furrows into the damp soil.
A woman leaned over him, pressing down hard on his chest.
She only stopped when his bulging eyes found her through the haze.
"Don't move," she said gently. "CPR doesn't usually restart a heart. Just breathe."
She pulled a smartwatch from her wrist and fastened it around his. Her phone appeared a second later.
"This will tell me if you're throwing any weird rhythms. Not as good as an EKG, but it'll do. Nod if you understand me."
Adam nodded and they waited in silence while his heart thundered in his chest.
Finally, he felt his pulse begin to slow, each beat anchoring him a little more in the real.
He felt like he’d been hit by a bus. The tips of his fingers tingled, and thin spiderwebs of fractal-like burns traced up his arms and under his shirt. He flexed his fingers experimentally, and to his relief, they still worked.
“That sucked,” he groaned.
“I don’t doubt it. You’re the first person I’ve ever seen actually struck by lightning,” she said. “Honestly, it was kind of cool. Do you feel like doing it again so I can record it this time?”
He caught the concern in her voice right beneath the joke.
“I’ll get right on that,” he groaned, forcing himself upright.
“Don’t-"
“I appreciate you helping me.” He paused, leaning forward with a wince. “I appreciate you saving me. But I’ve been attacked by what I can only describe as goblins, driven through practical hell to get back here, and now I've been struck by lightning. We can’t just sit around outside. It’s not safe.”
She nodded, took her watch back, and stood, offering him her hand.
He took it. Her grip was strong and a little calloused, like someone used to working with their hands.
“I’m Adam," he said, turning the assist into a handshake.
“Natalie. I’m a paramedic,” she said, returning the grip and pointing to the patches on her jacket. “I was on my way home when…” She gestured vaguely upward.
“When whatever that was decided to upend reality?” he offered.
“Yeah. That.” She frowned.
Adam sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be rude it's just… yeah.” Natalie nodded, her expression full of understanding. “Let’s get off the street before something tries to eat us.”
As if on cue, a choked scream broke the silence, making Adam’s hair stand on end. He looked around but couldn’t pinpoint the source.
“You sure you’re alright? I have to get home.” She said, glancing over her shoulder before down at the gold band on her left ring finger. Her shoulders were tense and she looked ready to bolt at any moment.
“Yeah, I'll be fine. Go." She nodded, ran to a nearby car, and disappeared inside. He turned back to his door with the bent key still in the lock. Holding his breath, he turned the handle and stepped inside.
He flipped the stairwell light-switch and the lights blinked to life. At least the power is still on, he thought. Resting the bat on his shoulder he climbed the narrow staircase, pausing to listen every few steps until he reached the top.
He hoped his home was empty, maybe even safe, even if only for the moment.
After checking every room, cupboard, and closet he was confident he was alone. Then he rechecked everything he had just gone over, this time including under the beds and inside the freezer.
Finally, Adam flopped on the couch, put his head in his hands and took several deep breaths as he tried to calm down.
A frantic pounding at the door had him on his feet an instant later. Bat in hand, he flew down the stairs, flinging the door open before he could think twice.
